


Professor Jones

by ashtraythief



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Space, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is used to students admiring him, but he’s never been so blatantly flirted with as this one’s doing. It wouldn’t be a problem if the kid wasn’t so damn hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professor Jones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dephigravity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dephigravity/gifts).



> I did a thing, I flung a fling. My contribution for this year’s spn_springfling. Written for the amazing dephigravity.  
> Many thanks to ilikaicalie for the beta!

  


Jensen has a certain reputation among his students. When he started out a few years back, there were questions about why he’d given up a command in outer space for a teaching position. Every time, Jensen had answered that he wanted to pass on his knowledge. His students at the time hadn’t been stupid. They’d taken a look at his service record, found two missions classified R for restricted, and the rumor mill had gotten started. In the first few years he’d taught, several of his students had older siblings who’d gone to the academy with him or who’d served with him. Over time, their mission accounts had grown into legendary tales of heroics. Since Jensen couldn’t — and didn’t want to — elaborate on his past, he’d gathered an air of mystery and danger that had made him insanely popular with the students. They’d even come up with some weird nickname for him, though he’s never bothered to find out what it means or where it came from. When Dani had heard about it, she’d just shot him a measuring look and said, “well, you could probably pull off the hat.” Jensen hadn’t wanted to know.

 

There are a variety of stories that circulate: those that get told in the hallway in front of his classroom, ones that get told after class, ones that get told when the cadets are drunk, and the most ludicrous — the one with the lava cave and the hoverboard comes to mind — that get passed on by the Station personnel to the newcomers.

 

The Sapientia II is the Star Alliance’s pride and joy, the biggest and most modern space station, built for future Star Force personnel to study and gain the expertise in their chosen fields.

 

Like many other retired Star Force commanders, Jensen teaches in his field of expertise. The cadets (who spend the third year of their four year education entirely in space) take a multitude of classes to prepare them for space travel and space warfare. They take classes pertaining to their specific majors, but Jensen’s class is part of the general education cluster.

 

He’d started out in one of the small classrooms on E deck. Nowadays, his classes take place in lecture room three (the numbering is misleading, it’s actually the second biggest classroom), even though he already teaches the class for three groups.

 

Jensen knows his popularity only partially stems from the topic of his classes (first semester Space Exploration 301 — Intercultural Interaction and second semester Space Exploration 312 — Alien Belief Systems). A huge part of it is the mystery surrounding him. He’s young for a retired commander, just like he was young when he received his first command. The classified missions do the rest. No one knows why he quit open space, but none of his students dare to ask outright. Jensen thinks they’re too scared, or maybe they just like to fill in the blanks on their own. If Jensen told them about the deal he’s made with the Star Alliance, they’d probably be disappointed. Then again, they might find his notion of retrieving the galaxy’s lost or stolen relics romantic.

 

Another big part of his appeal is his appearance. Jensen has looked in a mirror and he’s aware of what is written inside the bathroom stalls. Dani takes a perverse joy in taking pictures and printing them out for the teachers’ hall.

 

Mostly, his students are content with admiring him from afar and gossiping behind his back. Occasionally, some of them will try to buy some alone time with him, come to his office hours with flimsy pretenses, or stay after class because they just have this _one_ more question. It’s usually harmless, and whenever one of them feels emboldened enough to even hint at the possibility of a private meeting, it only takes Jensen a well-placed glare to halt them in their tracks.

 

Which is why he’s incredibly surprised, pissed off, and actually kind of impressed against his will when he bumps into a new student in the hall, and the boy apologizes while checking him out shamelessly, and then follows his apology with an openly flirtatious grin.

 

Jensen’s instant reaction is to look back, because _damn_ is the kid attractive — and he’s tall, so there’s lots of him to admire — but then he realizes that he’s just that: a kid. Sure, he’s got broad shoulders, but his cheeks still have a hint of baby-softness and his hair falls floppily around his face in a way that only teens and guys in their early twenties can manage. Since the shuttle with the new students just arrived this morning, Jensen has no doubt about this kid’s status.

 

“You know,” the student says now, looking Jensen up and down with blatant appreciation in his eyes, “if everyone on this station looks as hot as you do, I don’t think I’ll be inclined to watch where I go in the future. Because damn.”

 

Jensen just raises his eyebrows, still trying to get back his equilibrium. “You could bump into Professor Rosenbaum. He’s a Ceeweeian.”

 

The new student obviously is aware of this particular species’ skin texture and makes a face. It’s adorable. Jensen wants to punch himself in the face. Maybe he should listen to Dani and get laid more often during his mid-year break. Jensen had tried to explain how racing through space to recover an idol and prevent an interplanetary war wasn’t conducive to having sex, but she had just waved him off.

 

“It’s sex, Jensen,” she’d said, “not an intergalactic peace conference. You can do it quick.”

 

“On second thought, maybe I’ll just have to bump into you again.” The student’s still eye-fucking him. Jensen is reluctantly impressed by his persistence.

 

“I’m a teacher here,” Jensen says, even though the thought’s really not unappealing. The kid is very pretty, with shiny brown hair in a messy bowl cut and intriguing eyes, colored somewhere between brown and green. But beautiful face or not, Jensen can’t hook up with a student and he certainly can’t let them openly flirt with him. Since the student might be unaware of who Jensen is, if he hasn’t looked up all the professors online, Jensen tacks on his name. “Professor Ackles.”

 

The student’s smile widens. It makes his boyish face look even younger, when two dimples cut deep into each cheek. They’re ridiculous. Jensen can’t look away.

 

“I’ve heard of you,” the student said, insouciantly leaning against the wall, lazily crossing his arms in front of his chest. It should look defensive. It doesn’t. Quite the contrary. “The famous Professor Ackles. Gotta say, you almost live up to the hype.”

 

“Almost?” Jensen can’t help but ask.

 

The student shrugs. “I thought you’d be taller.”

 

Jensen barks out a laugh. “Not everyone can be a sasquatch.”

 

Because the student is tall, at least two, maybe three inches taller than Jensen. He’s also broad-shouldered, with big hands. A vision of those big hands gripping a railing white-knuckle tight and taking his weight, absorbing the force of Jensen’s thrusts, fills Jensen’s mind and he shakes his head to clear it. He’s not going to have inappropriate fantasies about a student.

 

Before Jensen can collect himself, the student steps forward. “So, Professor Ackles,” he says, mischief glinting in his eyes. “I have to say, I’m curious. All those stories I heard…”

 

“Rumors or wildly exaggerated,” Jensen cuts him off, and it’s true for at least some of them. “Look, Mr.—”

 

“You can call me Jared,” the student interrupts with a wide grin.

 

“That’s against protocol,” Jensen retorts and Jared actually pouts. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

 

Jensen moves to walk past, but Jared calls after him. “What, you’re not even gonna offer to show me around?”

 

Jensen turns around and puts on his best dignified-professor glare that Dani insists is panty-dropping hot and not at all intimidating, but Jensen has made students freeze with it, albeit he can’t be sure of the reason.

 

For the first time, the response he gets is a flash of white teeth in a broad grin before Jared flicks his tongue out to make his lips shiny with spit. So Dani might be right. Fuck.

 

“This is highly inappropriate,” Jensen says, because Jared’s walking towards him and Jensen can’t look away from his fucking mouth.

 

“Really?” Jared asks, amused. “Because I read up on space station code of conduct and nowhere does it say that the personnel isn’t allowed to fuck in the hallway closet.” He jerks his head towards the next door. “Or any other location, really. I’d be up for a bed too. Maybe the engine room. Probably very steamy down there.”

 

“Enough,” Jensen bites out because that was one image too many. He cannot think about Jared and his challenging smile while the strands of his hair are damp and probably curling up at the tips.

 

“Teacher-student relationships are prohibited, for good reason, and if you don’t cut it out, you’ll get enough sanitation room duty to purge all thoughts of sex from your mind.”

 

Finally, he got through to Jared because the student is staring at him with his mouth open. Then, inexplicably, he starts to laugh. Jensen is taunted by another flash of dimples and has to watch Jared clap his big hands, long fingers lingering interlaced.

 

Then Jared steps forward, until he’s directly in front of Jensen. “You’re adorable when you’re trying to be strict,” he says with a cheeky grin. “But maybe instead of making assumptions, you should ask for introductions.”

 

“What?” Jensen asks, and he’s only half confused by Jared’s words. His proximity is a serious challenge to Jensen’s sanity.

 

Jared takes a step back, still grinning. “My name’s Jared. Jared Padalecki. I teach Space Travel Engineering. I know I could pass as a student, but trust me, I’m twenty-six and I served four years in outer space.” Jared’s smile morphs into something even more cheeky. “You can find me in Room 314, Level C. If you want.”

 

With that, he turns around and walks away. His ass is as enticing as the rest of him. Jensen stares, then remembers to shut his mouth. Then he goes to one of the info panels that are lining the walls in regular intervals. He pulls up the station plan and looks up room 314. It’s just two corridors down from his lecture hall.

 

Jensen takes a deep breath. He’s definitely stopping by between classes.

  
  


 

Two weeks later, two over-eager students, who are trying to get good seats to Professor Ackles’ lecture, open the door to the lecture hall three a half hour early and are treated to a quite spectacular sight. At least, that’s how Alona describes Ackles’s naked ass later. Aldis just thoughtfully cocks his head. “I don’t know,” he says, “I was more impressed with how bendy Professor Padalecki is.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtray-thief.tumblr.com/).


End file.
